


Fickle Fate

by Denebola_Leo, SailorStarDust1



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Action/Adventure, Aerith Gainsborough Lives, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Canon - Original Game, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friendship, Gen, Human Experimentation, Jealousy, Minor Character Death, Puppet Cloud Strife, Slow Burn, Zack Fair Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-02
Updated: 2020-01-24
Packaged: 2020-07-29 07:13:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20078233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denebola_Leo/pseuds/Denebola_Leo, https://archiveofourown.org/users/SailorStarDust1/pseuds/SailorStarDust1
Summary: A retelling ofFinal Fantasy VII's events where Zack and Aerith survive, with all the ripple effects that it entails. This is a spiritual successor toNot Here for Trouble.Updated monthly.





	1. Winds of Change

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is co-written by SailorStarDust1 and me. 
> 
> Now, with that said, this fic is OG. There's no CC, BC, AC, or DoC here. There will be elements and subjects taken from them, but they're not canon to this fic. Zack will keep his CC personality(Best we've got and really, it's what you'd expect from the OG anyway) and yeah. Anyway, we hope you all enjoy this fic. We have no idea how long it'll take to finish, but with two people instead of one maybe some day.

The church was as full of flowers as it had ever been, tended in the last five years by a learning green thumb. But it felt empty. Empty since the day _ he _ left and never returned. No matter how the artificial lights above hit the space with a bright glow, no matter the smell of moist earth, or the murmur of her mother and others, the church had lost something since that day. Sometimes, it was hard to enter.

Aerith appraised a few promising plants that grew near some splintered old floorboards. They were almost ready to sell, their heavy buds threatening to bloom as her fingers delicately plied. What did she do wrong? The dark haired Soldier had been smiling the last she saw him, smiling about their reunion after a supposed mission. But Tseng denied there being a mission at all.

But, then where did he go?

To Junon, she had been informed. What about his cell phone? It had to be changed, for security reasons. What about writing to him? Tseng said he would get the letters to him. But, she never got a response back. It made her sad, then angry, then despondent. Had her then boyfriend lied when he said her ancestry wasn’t weird to him? She wasn’t a freak…

Water droplets began to fall from the broken roof above her head. Aerith looked up, a prayer in her heart as she clasped her hands together. _ I just want closure. _ The rain continued to fall, runoff from the plate and from whatever tiny bit of sky could be spied from the Slums. Were the heavens crying with her?

It continued to rain, and she continued to pray. The murmurs never grew louder, and she never got an answer. _ Well, some prayers aren’t answered right away, _ she reasoned. She plopped her hands down to her sides with a sigh, then went back to tending her flowers, blocking out thoughts that had badgered her for almost five years now.

“Aerith.”

She turned around her head, then rose to face who was behind her: Tseng. The Turk stood tall with his familiar, professional presence, his suit dark blue and fresh pressed and his black hair resting slightly below his shoulders, straight and glossy in the light. He must have arrived in the slums after the rain had subsided. Aerith pursed her lips and gave him a wary look with her eyes. _ What did he want now? _

He stood near the flowers, but never did his black dress shoes ever touch them. “I’d like it if you would be more alert in the future.”

Her brow quirked up. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

Tseng softly shook his head, his hands still behind his back in that all too familiar pose. “So you say. But I didn’t come here to warn you against the usual Slum hooligan.”

“Oh. Well, I’m sure you’re on it.”

A sigh, low and mildly frustrated, came out of Tseng’s mouth. “Until they’re apprehended, I’d appreciate it if you stayed at home.”

Aerith put her hands on her hips, slightly nudging her flower basket as her foot tapped against it. “Do you think they’re after me or something?”

“They’re fugitives,” he began in a hesitant tone. “They’ve killed Shinra personnel and escaped the prison they were held in. So, I’m worried for your safety.”

She denied him with a shake of her head. “I’m not afraid of some criminals. Maybe if I worked for Shinra,” she replied as her hands went behind her back and she bent forward. “I would be worried then.”

His dark eyes narrowed at the defiant smile mere feet away. “At the very least, for the rest of today and tomorrow? We will be doing a sweep of this Sector for them.” Before she could protest further he added, “I will compensate for lost income.”

Aerith looked thoughtfully at the Turk. Was he worried _ this _ much that he would hand her Gil to stay at home? She straightened up and looked down at the flowers; they would be fine without her for a couple of days. Perhaps she could see if the local children would mind keeping an eye on them, if worse came to worst. When not busy with chores or playing in the Sector Six park, they delighted in helping her with the flowers.

“Hm...They must be pretty bad if you’re going through all this trouble for me,” she teased.

He seemed to stiffen, almost imperceptible, but she had known him for too long._ Strange _. “It’s a precaution.”

Well, he was avoiding giving her more information. Aerith wondered _ who _these people were that they would have Tseng on edge. Were they that bad, were they after her for some reason? There had been talk, rumors of rebellion forming in the slums. It could very well be related...couldn’t it be?

As they wandered towards her home, she pondered some more. Would they know Shinra’s interest in her, and take her hostage? That was possible, and Tseng wouldn’t stand for that, she knew. If there was one constant about the Turk, it was that he did look after her, no matter how many times she insisted that she could handle it all by herself.

But he had been most adamant about this situation.

“We will sweep the Sector as quickly as possible. In the meantime, try to stay near your home and keep your eyes open for any suspicious characters.” His neutral expression faded for just an instant, but what was that expression? Trepidation. _ Was it perhaps just the weather? It was beginning to rain again. _

The area her home was located was a unique place among the slums, and from what Aerith had heard, one of a kind in the hundred mile Midgar Wastes. She had tended barren land to give way to flowers and even a modest vegetable garden, and the waters from above were strangely pure by Slum standards here. Of course, she wouldn’t give up her secret to how that was managed.

She looked up at the kitchy, two story house, a relic from a time when the Slum was a village. It sported a red tile roof with two sharp, triangular windows that allowed a view from their bedrooms. The outer walls were coated in a grayish-tan plaster, and the wood frame of the door looked ancient. The door was of a similar age, heavy and weathered. Runoff from the plate dribbled down upon the back of the house, but it was sporadic.

It swung open with a creak as the two approached, revealing an older woman in a plain green dress and a white apron on, giving Tseng a distrusting, weary glare with her dark eyes. She tucked a stray, brown hair behind her ear before greeting them. “Tseng, what’s the meaning of this?”

“He’s just walking me home, Mom,” Aerith replied as she left the Turk’s side. There was a pang in her chest, part nostalgia and part heartbreak. Didn’t Mom also give _ him _that same, sharp glare? Always looking for an ulterior motive if someone was working for Shinra…

Aerith supposed, for once, that Mom had a point.

She looked back at Tseng, then gave him a curt bow of her head. “I’ll see you later. Thanks for the help.”

The flower girl went inside, letting Tseng and Mom talk about whatever it was they were talking about as they convened in front of the house. Aerith’s boots scraped against the stone floor as she made her way upstairs, the kitchen warm with yellow plaster walls and fresh cut flowers sitting in vases. The rickety wooden steps creaked here and there, Aerith unconcerned with choosing where her foot fell.

Finally she made it to her room, the same bedroom that she had found herself sleeping in for the first time sixteen years ago. Aerith sat her flower basket on the floor next to the door, then plopped onto her bed, the soft mattress and quilt cradling her back as she rested her head on her pillow. It was quiet here, except for the soft murmurs that never left her alone.

She stared at the ceiling and all the cracks and spaces between the wood beams, her mind always going back to one person. The one person she told Mom she was completely over, and it was a mantra she said almost every day. But her frustration was again at a peak, and so was her forlorn heart. A sad sigh passed her lips, and she squeezed at the bed covers.

“Zack...where are you?”

* * *

The yellow truck, sun-faded with age, carried the pair of outlaws towards Midgar from Kalm without a hitch. At least, that was the most uncomplicated way to think about things, Zack figured, further adjusting the dark cloak around his body. He rubbed at his furred jaw, leather fingerless gloves stroking short, black whiskers.

“How you holdin’ up?” Whispering, he leaned in towards his partner in crime, who was quite literally laying low alongside Zack on the truck’s bed. A bit of a bumpy ride, to be sure, but whatever it would take to not arouse suspicion was for the best. Besides, their rides in Soldier had been _ way _ worse, Zack even now fuzzily recalling his friend’s bad cases of motion sickness.

Thankfully, that particular aliment seemed to have quelled these days, considering.

“...Uuh…aah?” Blank eyes, shimmering in pure Mako, met Zack’s. The older man grinned, tsk’ing for good measure, playfully ruffling the blond’s spiky hair.

“Well, _ of course _ you’re gonna be chilly like that! What am I gonna do with you?” He laughed lightly, helping Cloud tighten the garment further. Anybody from Shinra that’d spot the otherwise inconsequential, Mako-experimented, ex-grunt...Zack was just thankful his Buster Sword was hidden underneath his own cloak. It was well made of some thick fabric to keep away the cold and snow of a climate they had left behind a few days ago, but nonetheless appreciated how it kept them looking low key.

Reaching the North by boat due to a fishing company based in a port on the icy continent, had been easy enough. Zack had thought that perhaps, they had shaken off Shinra. That was until they were ambushed by a Turk while traveling through a small woods towards Bone Village. In the end the ex-Soldier had gotten the upper hand, then buried the corpse far from the road; a difficult task with the sporadic permafrost that made up some of the soil. Tired and injured, he had made his way to the nearest inn, five miles northeast.

The Bone Village innkeeper insistently offered Zack and his friend complimentary cloaks for the biting chill of the north, free of charge, after seeing how beat up and cold the two were. The former 1st Class had found himself there with questions of how to reach the highest mountain—something about it sounded _ fascinating _ —met with replies about needing to approach from Icicle Inn, warnings of how many interested climbers had fallen to their deaths in wanting a taste of adventure. In the end, he felt it would be better not to keep Aerith waiting.

Under the cover of night they stowed away in a ferry bound for Kalm, then sneaking out two days later into the quiet town of fishermen and mythril miners. Zack would have loved to stay for a good bite to eat since the last thing either of them ate was a few bowls of soup at that inn (since they didn’t really have any money), but schmoozing that old man into a ride to Midgar was more important. They could eat in Midgar.

“Yo! Old guy! We at Midgar yet?” Zack asked of the older man driving the truck.

He saw a hand gesture. “Shaddap! You're lucky I even gave you a ride!”

Zack snickered a bit at the old man’s surliness. He turned back to Cloud. “What're you gonna do once we get to Midgar?”

Cloud said nothing, just stared at his lap. Or through his lap, eyes unfocused as ever.

“I know what I'm gonna do. I got a place I can crash for a while...No wait, that guy might make a visit…” Zack scratched his head. “Guess that's out for now...” He’d find her soon, regardless.

He lightly punched the palm of one hand. “Yep... gotta change my plans! No matter what I do, I need some money first…” His brow quirked upwards as he gave Cloud an appraising look. ”...Hey, wanna start a business? But, what could we do?”

Zack thought for a few minutes, but the bumps in the road were interrupting his train of thought. “Hey, Cloud. Think there's anything I'd be good at?”

The blond looked ready to drool out of the side of his mouth, so Zack rubbed it with his cloak’s fabric, then looked back at the truck driver. “Hey, old guy! What do you think I'd be good at?”  
  
“What're you yappin' about? You're still young, ain't ya? Young folks should try everything! You gotta pay your dues while you're young. Go out and look for what you _ really _want.”

“Try everything...That's easy for him to say…” the ex-Soldier mumbled. He really wished he could do a few squats, but it was too cramped. He instead looked out towards the arid, dusty wastes, watching as a small herd of monsters made their way towards the Midgar Mountains.

He snapped his fingers in a moment of revelation. “Hey! Of course! I got a lot of brains and skill that other guys don't! That settles it! I'm gonna become a mercenary!” He grinned and laughed to himself. “Yeah! Thanks, pops!”

The driver looked at him with the back view mirror, brows furrowed. “Hey...didn't you even hear a word I said?”

“Listen, I'm gonna become a mercenary and that's that,” Zack replied with a flippant wave of his hand. “Boring stuff, dangerous stuff, anything for money. I'm gonna be rich!” Again he looked at his blond, comatose friend. “So, Cloud? What are _ you _ gonna do?”

“No, wait... you got it all wrong,” the driver protested weakly.

Cloud...looked up _ a little _, like he had heard Zack. “U...uhhh......”

Zack just chuckled, and gave Cloud’s hand a firm pat. “Just kidding...I won't leave you hanging like that.” No, not after everything. Cloud _ would _ recover, and they would restart their lives. Maybe after a while he’d even be able to see his parents again.   
  
Parents...Cloud didn’t have parents anymore. Or a hometown. Zack wasn’t sure how long they had been down in that dark basement, but it had been long enough that Nibelheim had been rebuilt down to that rusted out piece of junk truck that stood at the entrance of the village, and he had spied people who hadn’t lived there when he visited.

For a while now, Cloud was all he had. And for the near future, all Cloud was going to have was him.

Zack put on his best smile to reassure his friend. “...We're friends, right? Mercenaries, Cloud. That's what you an' me are gonna be.” He leaned in and poked the spiky haired ex-grunt on the nose. “Understand, Cloud?”

The former grunt’s bright blue eyes slowly blinked, then closed, and his head slumped to his shoulder. Zack leaned back into the side of the truck and let out an amused sigh. “Yeah, I’m a little tired, too, buddy.”

He just felt wore down, and not just his body. Whenever he had a spare minute to think his mind would just go to other things that he didn’t want to think about just yet. Getting to the Slums, where they could be right under Shinra’s nose and not be caught because of the millions of souls that lived there came before any wayward thoughts and feelings he would have to work out.

And maybe it _ was _ hard, keeping Cloud alive, and he was slowing him down, but damn it, they were friends, and he _ earned _it. He wasn’t just a barely living lump of meat, he would snap out of his stupor, and they would be mercenaries. It would just take time. They would have time, too, once they disappeared into the smelly shadows of the massive shanty towns under the Plates.

Zack looked up at the vast, blue sky, and wondered how long it would be until he saw its expanse again. Perhaps as long as it had been since he had seen Aerith, however long that had exactly been. Maybe it had just been a year or so. Yeah. Not too long.

There were some clouds in the sky, puffy, white and lazy, their numbers slowly growing as they drove westward. The slightest hint of rain tinged the scent of sun warmed dust, slightly warmer than the early autumn air. _ At least it stayed warmer than further north, _ he thought. It was a nice day. The sun warmed his cheeks, and he breathed deeply the smell of freedom.

The truck began to slow a bit, and Zack looked towards the cabin with a frown as they came to a crawl. “Hey, pops, why’re you slowing down?”  
  
“Don’t be stupid! It’s a checkpoint.”

_ A checkpoint? Oh, shit. _ Zack looked at Cloud as his hand uncovered his sword, resting on the truck bed and partially hidden within the fabric of his cloak. “Looks like we’re gettin’ off here.”


	2. Old friends, Reunited

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SSD here! Have an appetite whetting chapter update ;)

_ I wonder if Wel, Dan, Meiday, and the other boys who left the village are doing alright? All the boys left for the city. They all called me out to the water tower. They all said the same things. _

Tifa looked up from the internal thoughts transformed into words across a page of her diary, looking about the open window to her room. Admiring the glittering starlight in the heavens above, the comfortable chill in the air of an otherwise strangely mild December evening.

_ Ah, except for Cloud. He said something about joining Soldier? I wonder how long he’s been thinking about that. He was always pretty distant from everyone else, but still bothered about everyone else. To be frank, he was kind of a strange kid. Always getting into fights. It wasn’t like he was fighting because he was angry, more like he was testing something. What was he trying to test? His own strength? _

Tifa frowned in the middle of gnawing the end of her pen, an otherwise bad habit. It was hard to say what exactly went through Cloud’s mind whenever he’d fight. He’d never behaved aggressively around _ her_, as if he was trying to prevent her from witnessing that lousy attitude.

And yet, who was she the one to mull over bizarre behavior? Certainly, tonight she’d taken _ herself _by surprise, almost blurting out the idea of a promise, Cloud appearing hesitant before he agreed. Oddly serious. Still, it had been nice to spend time with her next-door neighbor, the pair falling into a comfortable silence after a shooting star above seemingly sealed their future.

Pity she was late due to piano lessons and homework. Thankfully, Cloud didn’t seem to mind. It seemed like he waited outside for Tifa for a good while, his eyes widening in surprise once she finally arrived. She had tried inviting him inside, away from the chilly night, but Cloud politely declined, mumbling something about not being wanted.

What did Cloud mean by that? Sure, perhaps Papa would sometimes act irritable when spotting Cloud next door quietly leaving his house each morning, but...

Tifa yawned sleepily. Such serious thoughts for a kid her age could wait until another day; there was school tomorrow. _ Hm, maybe I’ll ask Cloud if he wants to walk to school together? _

Setting her diary inside the desk drawer, she slipped out of her white one piece dress before changing into her nightgown. Time to brush her teeth and hit the hay.

Tifa frowned, footfalls light into their bathroom to not wake her father fast asleep in his room. He was always so busy as town mayor, also missing Mama as much as Tifa herself did. A shame that Tifa couldn’t remember much of those days.

Slowly brushing her teeth while staring back at her sleepy reflection—oh no, did she have a hair out of place during their talk at the water tower?—she wondered what the future held.

_ Will Cloud visit with Soldier, soon? I hope he’ll do well, climbing up the ranks. _

* * *

The clock on the wall quietly ticked the seconds away while Tifa finished cleaning her bar, Seventh Heaven. 

Avalanche held no official meeting tonight. Rather, she had tomorrow off to restock the bar’s supplies. Tonight, she’d quietly reflect while cooking an early dinner for her friends. And mull over things, in brief solitude.

Maybe her own past memories—mama dying from her illness—were fuzzy due to childhood? To the natural passage of time. Certainly, that had to be it.

There was the present to look forward to. Something more important. Tangible. She’d closed the bar today, too, so that her small family of friends could enjoy a peaceful meal together. Once everyone finished their own errands that evening and returned home. So Marlene, at least, could have some happy memories.

After all, they were about to do something that would most assuredly ruin their rather uneventful life in the Slums.

Soon, in a short couple of months, Avalanche was going to make a move against Shinra. They were going to blow up a Mako reactor, a stalwart symbol of Shinra’s power, and then the rest of them _ if _Avalanche wasn’t caught before hand. If they all survived the first mission...

She turned towards the large pot of stew simmering on the stove and began stirring. The Mako reactors _ had _to go. She’d seen the effects on Mount Nibel when she was younger, and eight of those metal parasites sucking up the Planet’s blood created a dead zone miles upon miles wide. 

Yes, for the Planet to have a future, they had to be destroyed.

Revenge boiled in her gut. Shinra had to pay for what they had done. 

Maybe Sephiroth massacred her hometown on his own, but if Shinra hadn’t built a Mako reactor there some twenty five years prior, and he’d never been dispatched, none of this would have happened. Tifa wasn’t even sure why the Silver General had gone on a rampage one evening; it was as if he had simply snapped. Zack, another Soldier, had gone after him. But she’d been too out of it from blood loss to remember what happened after claiming she hated Zack.

Everyone she knew, dead. Except for one...Cloud Strife.

Cloud. Her next door neighbor, and the boy that promised one beautiful starlit night to come to her whenever she was in a pinch. But, he never came...not that she thought her dream was realistic. He hadn’t been there. He went into Soldier...A small chill came to her spine at the thought. Were they enemies now? Would they have to face him soon, and would he be a Shinra loyalist? 

Maybe he didn’t care what happened to Nibelheim, because no one ever really liked him there.

But he had a mother! Maybe he just didn’t know. Maybe he ran away, or he was dead, or...

She shook her head to get rid of her rambling thoughts. The thought of Cloud being in Soldier made her feel sick to her stomach whenever it surfaced, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be persuaded to join them against his employer, right? It didn’t mean he was a soulless husk of a man. Even despite herself, Zack seemed an honest sort...Was he alive, too?

Tifa snapped around in surprise at the sound of the bar door opening. Did Biggs forget to lock it, _ again_? She tsked to herself and came from behind the bar to greet and shoo off the would-be guests. 

They put her on edge, covered in black cloaks and slightly hunched over. “Excuse me, but we’re cl—”

Then she saw the soft glow of indigo eyes eerily staring at, or through, her. Soldiers.

She stiffened a bit, not from fear, but from disgust. Tifa cleared her throat and crossed her arms. “We don’t serve Shinra here because they cause too much trouble with the locals when they drink,” she said with a hint of iciness to her voice.

The stranger held up his free hand, and she noticed a large sword handle poking out from behind his shoulder, further putting her on edge. He waved his hand disarmingly. “H-hey now, we aren’t here for booze! And um, we aren’t Shinra, either.”

The pugilist narrowed her eyes. Did he take her for a fool? “The Mako eyes give it away, _ sir_.”

“Fine, fine...” The stranger’s eyes darted about nervously. “Uh, the sundries shop down the street was closed for the night...I...was wondering if you had a Potion, or water, or something.”

Whatever cooked atop the stove behind the bar smelled _ good _ . Comforting, like back home in Gongaga. And that lingering scent of brisket, and freshly baked bread that patrons or other residents _ must’ve _ savored...Zack could only hope his growling stomach wasn’t terribly obvious.  
  
_ Or something? _Tifa noticed his eyes looking her up and down and his try-hard smile fading into a slight frown. And despite herself, she rolled her eyes. “We aren’t an Item shop.”

“Uh, right, right...”

_ Drip. _

_ Drip. _

_ Drip. _

Tifa’s gaze shifted down to see a small splotch of blood underneath him. His comrade had been rather quiet, leaning on the first man this entire time. The pale faced Soldier looked around, then let out a huff of air, as if holding in whatever physical pain he was experiencing.

* * *

_Ugh. Something to mentally distract, and calm this weird atmosphere…What should I do?_

Happily, Zack took notice of the pinball machine off to the side of the small restaurant. 

“Well, buddy, would ya look at that! How much Gil you wanna bet that I can get the high score?”

Groaning through his cloak, his blond companion's head lolled to his side. Cloud had fallen in and out of lucidity through that morning, shortly after Zack woke him up. Before sudden gunfire resulted in a startled truck tire’s hastily squealing away and the clashing of steel against steel. Since then, Zack’s brave front for his shoulder injury was increasingly difficult.

The bartender, impatiently tapping her fingerless gloved hand against her arm, remained unimpressed. Zack couldn’t help wince. _ No good, huh? _

“...Sorry. We’ll leave ya alone.” Maybe they could ask for a glass of water elsewhere. Neither had any clean water since Kalm.  
  
“Uhhh....” The other one began stirring a bit.

“Easy there, Cloud,” the first man whispered. 

A gasp escaped the woman. “What did you call him?” she demanded.

He hesitated, then licked his lips. “...Cloud?”

“Uuuhhh...Re...on.” There was shuddered breath.

Wishing her quickening heart would calm, Tifa came closer, mouth dry as the Corel desert. Could it be? He wasn’t the only person on the Planet with that name, but...she _ had _to know. 

Her curiosity more than overwhelming, with one light tug of his hood, that familiar mess of spiky blond hair—damp from sweat—was evident. 

“_Cloud_?! Wh...what’s wrong with him? _ Where_...” 

Widening eyes, a million questions immediately ran through Tifa’s mind. For now, she cut them off to catch her racing thoughts. _ He’s here, he’s here, he’s here. _

Hood fallen against his back with arms crossed, Zack was in silent disbelief about having another soul to bluntly discuss the matter with, after months of solitude. Tifa’s eyes widened further as she gazed upon a face she never thought she would see again.

“Tifa?! Um, it _ must’ve _been awhile! Cloud has...Mako poisoning. A pretty severe case, too.”

She swallowed the forming lump in her throat, white knuckles clenched at her sides. “Zack...was this....” Her hardening gaze met those familiar Mako eyes—truthfully, she felt like a fool to not recognize the 1st Class sooner. “Did _ Shinra _do this to Cloud?” She made no apologies about her openly bitter tone. 

“Well...” Zack scratched the back of his head, before shaking it. “It’s...a bit of a complicated story. We’re on the run from them, though.”

“...Ahh...?”

Tifa bit her lip, a hand ever so gently resting on Cloud’s shoulder, helping her old friend into a chair. Before anything else, she ensured both men had fresh water to drink. Zack, still standing, disregarded any manners to noisily chug his share, while Cloud needed Tifa’s help holding up his glass, managing to sip.

“We’ll talk about the details later. Right now, Cloud needs help. Because we’re in the Slums, the _ real _ medicine they have on the Upper Plate is out of the question...So, how about something soothing to relax tension in his muscles? Especially so he won’t be restless when he _ should _be getting a full night’s sleep.” 

Tifa looked at Zack and gently tilted her head. “Maybe a bath?”

“Yeah, _ something_...He’s not doing too good.” Zack brought his now free hand to his side, nursing it while taking a deep breath through his nose. Despite the bittersweet reunion, he still seemed a little stressed. 

“You aren’t either, Zack.” _ No wonder he wanted a Potion. _

“...Ti...Uuhh...” 

While Tifa spoke, her former next-door neighbor—oddly enough—seemed to...nuzzle into her hand, as if he were a puppy seeking shelter from an approaching storm. Was that a flicker of recognition in those heavily clouded green eyes? Her hand ever so slowly cupped against the warmth of his cheek. Staying. 

_Not green. They _ shouldn’t _ be green. _Tifa maneuvered herself to reach for a bar napkin, wiping away some of Cloud’s drool without comment, ruby eyes softening in utter sadness. Not quite despair. Not yet.

Unceremoniously all but collapsing against a countertop bar stool with the tension leaving his body, Zack didn’t even hide the fatigue across his tired features, worry lines occasionally ceasing his forehead and corners of his lips while replying. 

“You don’t even know the _ half _ of this, looking after him.” Minor blood loss, Zack could handle. The emotional factor, however…He was _ so _ incredibly tired, but immediately added—slight edge to his voice, “Through no fault of Cloud’s own, mind you! Anyway...I _ think _ a bath could help him settle down a bit. Poor guy tosses and turns a lot at night. That’s when his _ really _bad attacks happen.”

Reluctantly, Tifa left Cloud’s side. He let out a little moan, displeased and pleading. She quickly locked the door, glancing at the pinball machine. “Zack, do you have enough energy to help get Cloud downstairs?”

The raven-haired man looked back at her while scratching at his scruffy chin. He achingly stood back up and walked over to his sick friend. 

“Y-yeah. Come on, Spike. It’s time to get you cleaned up!”

* * *

Tifa enjoyed the surprised look on Zack’s face when the pinball machine—aww, did that mean he couldn’t play it?—turned out to be an elevator that led to a large, underground bunker that housed what looked like a rather large family; and now her family might grow again. They carried Cloud into the bathroom, decorated with white tile and little knick knacks she and Jessie had collected from one place or another.

As the bath filled, Tifa left the pair and fetched a few Potions to help the subtly bleeding Zack. When she returned he had helped himself to a hot wet rag, wiping any trace of grime from his face and neck. Eagerly downing each bottle of liquid in three audible gulps, the look of relief on his face was the happiest she had seen him since Nibelheim...Nibelheim...  
  
“Zack,” she began as they stripped Cloud and together, ever so slowly easing his body into warm water, “what happened after Nibelheim?”

He looked down, mouth a straight line. Seems it had rattled him almost as much as it did her. 

“Cloud. He beat Sephiroth.”

Her brows creased together, and she shook her head. “I don’t remember him being there.”

Zack’s eyes moved back up again to meet hers. “He was. Remember that quiet grunt that kept lookin’ at you?”

“I...yes?” She looked down at Cloud, then back at Zack, then shook her head again. “It wasn’t Cloud, was it? He’s a Soldier, a 1st Class like you!” _Or did Shinra make him Soldier after he beat Sephiroth? Then, why were they running from Shinra? _

“He was never in Soldier,” he quietly denied. “Deserved the honor for sure, but he was just a grunt. Said he couldn’t show his face in town until he became one. Silly, huh?”

“Cloud...” She gently rubbed some of Jessie’s shampoo into his soft, wet hair. A little whimper escaped his lips as she tickled his scalp with her fingers, then a quiet sigh. “How did he get Mako poisoning?” she nearly whispered. 

It was nearly a full minute when she realized she hadn’t gotten an answer, and she turned her head to see him either staring into the water, or at Cloud’s chest. Quickly she followed his line of vision to a horrible deep scar almost underneath Cloud’s heart. Similar to the one across Tifa’s own chest, that ugly reminder in between her breasts and the beginnings of her belly. Well-hidden thanks to her white tank top.

“Zack...?”

“After Cloud beat Sephiroth, he almost bled to death. I remember Zangan coming in and haulin’ you off, he even gave Cloud a quick Cure before escaping. Then, Shinra came.” 

The bitterness had entered Zack’s voice at their mention. He swallowed heavily before continuing. “I thought they were gonna save us. We couldn’t stop Sephiroth from destroying your village, but we stopped him from trying to kill everyone on the Planet, right?”

The 1st Class continued, “I thought...we would be heroes to Shinra. But, Hojo took us down to the basement in the Shinra Mansion with the other survivors and, well...He did a little of this or that to us. Whatever it was he wanted us to do, our bodies _ didn’t _do, so he stuffed us in tanks for a while. Not really sure how long we were in there.”

Her mouth was gaping open in absolute horror and sorrow for what Zack described. Survivors? Experiments? Tanks? They had been through hell, and they didn’t even know how many years they had lost! 

“Oh, Zack...” She couldn’t tell him just yet. He was putting on a strong face, she knew, but he needed rest. “I-I think you should get some sleep, we can talk more later.”

“What about Cloud?”

“I can handle him from here.” She dumped a bowl of water over his head, the blond emitting a subdued noise of surprise at the sudden cold chill, Tifa washing away suds on his now clean hair. “Take the room that’s down the hall and to the left.”

“If you’re sure...” Zack bit his lip. Glancing between the pair, with Tifa’s tired eyes in serious concentration while tending to Cloud as her childhood friend muttered nonsense, his unfocused eyes gazing at his bathwater. 

The swordsman shakily stood, his hand offered a comforting squeeze to Tifa’s shoulder. “Thank you, Tifa.” His voice was still oh so tired, albeit thankful. Genuine. 

In all honesty, some rest certainly sounded good, considering his injuries. There wasn’t much damage because of his pauldron, but it had bruised and strained the muscles from the force. Zack was glad that scuffle at the security checkpoint wasn’t a headshot, and their driver sped off to safety at the first signs of conflict. And, at least Cloud began displaying gradual signs of recovery, occasionally becoming lucid before going back into his stupor.

“Once things calm down, I’ll see if I can find Cloud a suitable weapon. He’ll need it, when he recovers.”

Not if. But _ when_. Tifa couldn’t help brightly smile at Zack’s honest hope regarding Cloud. Something she had to remember, her fingers ever so slowly tracing the ugly reminder of his victory against Shinra’s former hero gone rogue, Cloud visibly flinching when Tifa began to gently scrub that area.

_ What did Sephiroh discover that made him raze our town? He’s long dead, according to Shinra’s papers, but… _

“Hm. There’ll be time for that. For now, _ please _get your strength back.” She looked at him and nodded. “You’re both in good hands. My friends and I won’t let Shinra find either of you.”

Relief washed over his features, and despite how ragged he looked, the release of that coiled up tension from being on the run for so long abated finally made him almost look like a completely different person. Being safe and sound was as valuable as gold to him, she realized. 

“Some day, I hope to repay you for this. Really.”

“Good night, Zack.” She turned back to the tub, feeling it was best to keep her eyes on Cloud in case he suddenly had an attack and found himself face-first in the shallow bath water.

“Good night Tifa. Night, Spike.” He nodded, quietly shutting the door behind him to offer some privacy, readying himself for bed. Wearing only his boxers to bed wouldn’t be _ terribly _awkward around the barmaid, now would it? Maybe she could do their laundry. 

Certainly Tifa was gorgeous and kindhearted, but his heart long ago belonged to somebody else.

* * *

_Making it to Sector Five will have to wait, huh? _ Disrobing near the makeshift cot in the personalized bedroom, Zack neatly left his clothes and Cloud’s in a pile in a small basket that seemed to serve as a laundry hamper. He had thought about taking a shower after Tifa was done with Cloud, but he was completely and utterly beat. 

_ It _ can’t _ have been for a year or more that we were away, right? _

He sighed to himself, sitting atop the somewhat stiff mattress to dry the blood off his sword that Tifa had made no comment on. He had no other way to deal with that checkpoint en route to Midgar. He’d used his cloak to clean the weathered thick blade, figuring that the dark fabric would hide any stains left from his clean up.

Zack checked the floor to make sure no blood had stained it, then took a good look at the room he was going to be sleeping in. There were a couple of pin ups on the concrete walls, painted a fading, pasty blue. A dresser with a cinderblock being used as a leg sat across the small room from him, holding a supply of gauze tape and a few fabric bandanas. A nightstand stood snugly against the bed, which held a simple lamp and a few personal items.

Finishing up he laid his aching body onto the bed, appreciating not so much knots of an aged mattress but just how safe he finally felt. Safe, in good hands, somewhere Shinra couldn’t find them. He could sleep on a rock covered in hot sand just for _ safety_. Zack’s eyes closed as a relieved sigh blew out of his lips, and he was soon completely dead to the world.

He had done it: he had finally gotten them on the road to a new life.


	3. Explanations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here's the next chapter! SSD and I will work hard on the next one for October!

Well past 9 PM—frankly closer to the side of 10—Aerith couldn’t find herself caring all that much. Tidying up the Church, her soil-covered hands long ago set aside her gardening supplies.

That was when she felt it, once more.

Stronger than earlier yesterday, but that was absolutely a twinge of..._something_. Faintly calling at her. Whatever it was, the Planet and her mother alike weren’t going to fill her in on the details anytime soon. Midgar’s pollution also wasn’t doing any favors for the young half-Cetra.

Frustrated and maybe somewhat frightened at the strange, gnawing, sensation in the back of her mind, Aerith’s hands clasped together. Her eyes shut in silent prayer, concentration, meditation.

Reopening her emerald eyes, their color so strikingly similar to that yet unknown current of life, the flower girl was hardly surprised to see Tseng silently observing her from one of the still in-tact pews. She always wondered just how many years ago this sadly decrepit Church had last seen the light of day as a place of worship. She couldn’t help wonder further, just what did the Ancients themselves worship, back in the day? Maybe someday—Aerith hoped, at least—to find the answers.

“Late night?” His even voice—perhaps concealing vague traces of amusement—broke her out of private musings.

“If you’re here to warn me _ again_...”; she huffed, rising to her feet to dust off traces of dirt against her dress.

“No, not about the fugitives. Although, I believe it’s wisest for me to accompany you home.” Tseng played his usual stoic part of impassive, unreadable, but she certainly caught a trace of....something...that was hard to decipher. Anger towards those strange men on the run? Utterly hard to say.

“I... ” Aerith faltered. It wouldn’t exactly be wise of her to refuse, now would it? “Fine.”

A sigh.

For tonight, she’d be a good girl. The less hot water and threats of returning to Hojo (_that monster_), utterly the better for her.

With one last cursory glance around the small room, Aerith nodded to herself in satisfaction. She walked along the leader of the Turks, side by side, her hands clasped behind her back.

“My answer’s the same as always, you know.” The bitter edge to her voice undercut any sarcasm, the traces of life fading from Ifalna’s eyes at the train station with Elmyra as fresh as some fifteen years ago. “I refuse to help Shinra.”

Faded memories of multiple harsh pink eyes, murky strange-colored liquid, a piercing white noise immediately filling her head, locked away behind a tightly sealed door. Labelled. Words that little Aerith was unable to read just yet. A child trapped in the labs with her mother. Cold scientists scribbling away in their notepads, muttering to one another. An antiseptic, utterly sickening, smell. Normally left to waste away in the jail cells as Ifalna was unknowingly examined, prodded, researched like a common lab rat.

Most days were boring for her. Most days she felt hungry. Or chilled. Days she’d rather not remember, more often than not, separated from her mother.

“Aerith!”

She blinked. How did they arrive at her home so quickly? “Hi, mom.”, she offered a half-smile towards Elmyra, faking cheer.

“Honestly! You should be thankful that I requested Mr. Tseng to check on you! I was getting so worried!”

Aerith’s smile felt so incredibly forced that it would probably break. She needed to retreat to the safe haven of her room, immediately. Not particularly hungry nor in the mood to fall asleep with a good book, tonight. “Sorry. I lost track of time!”

She turned to Tseng, nodding her head towards the door. “Would you like to come in for tea? I’m sure you have the late shift tonight.”

“That won’t be necessary.” The well-dressed Turk offered a slight bow towards both women. “I was already on my way home.”

* * *

“Cloud, what am I going to do with you?”

Tifa was shaking her head, quietly muttering, returning to scrub his messy locks. At least he wasn’t covered in dirt or blood too badly. Zack really _ did _give it his all to protect his friend. Tifa couldn’t help but smile to herself at the thought; those two truly were close.

She idly wondered just _ how _ close Zack and Cloud grew in these past five years—quickly overcoming any personal embarrassments of washing Cloud’s body to help him get clean. His arms were well-toned, yet rather evident was his malnourished, sickly, belly.

Still, whatever her old friend did in his own business was _ his _ life—not that she couldn’t help but feel a mild pain of _ something _ aching within her heart, at the thought of Cloud being in a relationship.

Certainly Tifa began to think about Cloud a lot after he left town to join Soldier, searching for him in the newspapers almost immediately became part of her morning breakfast ritual, but that didn’t mean—

"Tiiii—Tifaa..."

The woman in question blinked, not believing what she heard, making immediate eye contact with Cloud’s hazy green eyes. Her uncertain voice was barely above a whisper, “Cloud…?”

Despite recognition of his own name, there was that vacant look—again—in those unsettling eyes, one half-open...Just how much longer would they be the _ wrong _ color?

“Ahh...Nu—number...?”

Tifa sighed, maybe out of partial frustration and partial worry. She wasn’t certain, herself. Ever so slowly gently scrubbing the underside of Cloud’s bicep, she’d decided that peacefully chatting with Cloud was the first step towards bringing him back to reality.

“Sorry if the mattresses aren’t comfortable down here. Some friends live in the other room upstairs and it’s not pleasant, either. But that’s just how the Slums are, you make do. Say, what’s your favorite thing for dinner? I’ll be sure to cook it sometime.” The subject of food gave her the nagging feeling that she’d forgotten something important.

Cloud just blinked, his strange emerald eyes meeting Tifa’s in silence, before his head lazily dropped into his chest. “Guh...Re...un...”

Tifa offered a half smirk, forcing her cheerfulness. Perhaps it was so fake that even Cloud could easily see through her. “Look, you can’t play in the bath the whole night. You have to get some sleep. Here, let me help you out.”

Draining the tub, Tifa quickly wrapped a warm cotton towel—one of the few luxuries her home had, on the higher end of the impoverished Slum dwellers—around Cloud’s body, slowly patting the blond dry.

“These boxers might be a little big on you...but they’re clean and they’re all I have right now,” Tifa continued, still full of nauseating false cheer. Barret would be several levels of pissed off, had he known! “Come on, Chocobo head, let’s dry your hair next.”

“Uhhh...”, he seemed to mumble an affirmative while the bartender cautiously towel-dried damp locks which almost fell to his shoulders. His hair looked awfully cute that way. Maybe his mutterings were fatigue, being properly wiped out after his warm bath. To Tifa, at least, it seemed both.

For now, she'd carefully shave off Cloud’s dark gold stubble using one of Biggs’ and Wedge’s clean razors and some aftershave. The small hairs didn't seem comfortable against her friend's face, judging by how frantically he'd paw at it during his occasional silent fits.

“Look this way, Cloud, towards the mirror. That's it.” Her smile, at least, grew genuine.

What a weird situation tonight ended up being! All she wanted was to _ talk _with Cloud, reconnect while ensuring he was okay. Not with this ill stranger before her eyes, less of an old friend and more like someone’s puppet.

He was still for her at least, his focus either nowhere or on the mirror in front of him. She lathered his face up with shaving cream before carefully putting a razor to a cheek. Holding her breath, she stroked downwards, leaving a baby bum smooth patch of skin in its wake. Tifa’s confidence growing, she continued with her duty.

“Cloud...there’s so much we have to catch up on, you know?” She glanced at his eyes. They were blinking a little more, maybe even clearing up from their eerie green. “I...wanna hear your voice.”

He swallowed robotically, but she wondered if anything she was saying registered. Almost done, she decided to continue talking to him. “I’m sure I will soon. You’re just really tired, aren’t you?”

As she wiped his now freshly shaven face, she got a good look at the man the boy next door turned into. Messy blond spikes, blue eyes corrupted by Mako, but no less beautiful, and an almond tan that sported barely noticeable freckles across his cheeks. He had softly angular features on his chin and nose, and a brow that would be more noticeable in a scowl.

He was as handsome as his friend, just in a _ different _way.

“Let’s get you to bed, okay?”

Cloud let out a grunt before she hoisted his arm over her shoulder and guided him to Wedge’s room. She let him sink into the bed a bit before helping him lay down on it. She went to tuck him in, but his hand shot out to hold her cheek, making her still and her eyes widen.

“C-Cloud?”

His eyes were a hazy blue from fatigue, but there was a faint smile on his lips, like he was satisfied with something he had done. “Ti...fa. Tifa. I’m...so happy...you’re alive,” he whispered.

She blinked in rapid succession, biting her lower lip when she found it quivering. Something inside her ached terribly, and she busied herself with the blankets before putting them on him.

“I’m happy you made it, Cloud.”

* * *

A knock at his (certainly this room had been well lived in, by the looks of it) door, before Tifa cautiously poked her head inside. Her voice soft, “Hey there. You awake?”

“More or less...Too many worries to fall asleep.” His sleep had been disturbed by an upsetting nightmare, then thoughts flooded into his mind that he wished would just leave him be. Zack’s smile was bitter, as he lay sideways on his bed, waving at the dark-haired woman who walked into the room.

“I take it Cloud fell asleep okay?”

“Yep.” She nodded, “Immediately out like a light as soon as I threw the covers over him.”

She'd have to talk to Wedge about the visitor too exhausted to even snore, in his room. The guys probably wouldn’t mind bunking in the spare guest room, Tifa in such a frantic rush to get tonight’s unexpected company settled in, that she hadn’t even the time to logically think much through.

Sighing heavily, she leaned her back against the makeshift door, arms crossed underneath her chest. Zack either didn’t care or simply made no comment. “Our three rooms down here...Well, they belong to some, uhh, roommates of mine? They should be home soon, but don’t worry. A friend of mine, she shares my bed and tonight the two guys shouldn’t have any problems bunking in our guest room. They’re easy-going, kind-hearted, people.”

“Don’t you have a spare bed upstairs next to yours, too?”

“Oh! That’s where my other friend and his daughter stay.”

Zack whistled out of amusement. “Runnin’ a charity case, are you, Tif?”

She burst out laughing. “That’s just how the Slums are. We stick together.” Her eyes fell to the stained, wooden floorboards. “And...besides that...” No good. She just couldn’t explain their plan in two months’ time.

“Umm...” Bashfulness returning in full force, Tifa began nervously brushing a strand of her away, single droplet earring shimmering in the mustard-colored lighting of technically Biggs’ room.

“Zack...What do you think about Cloud?”

“He’s a swell guy, and he’ll _ definitely _get better soon! Don’t worry!” As eager as a puppy on the subject of one of his favorite people, Zack couldn’t help sing his best friend’s praises.

“N-no, I meant. What do you, umm..._think _ of him?” The shade of Tifa’s cheeks all but matched the color of her beautiful eyes, now.

“Oh! _ Well_...” Zack scratched long ends of spiky hair at the base of his neck. He considered himself pretty open-minded and would’ve done anything for Cloud. But going on a date before everything went to Hell never crossed the Soldier's mind due to one big reason.

“I don’t think my girlfriend would like that too much. Come to think of it, she’d probably find Cloud pretty cute!”

Tifa immediately blanched, Zack politely held back laughter while holding up a hand. “Relax, I’m just kidding! Neither of us will get in the way. You kids have fun once Cloud gets better, okay?”

Tifa huffed, shaking her head, blush not dissuading. “Jeez, you're only a few years older than us, you don’t have to talk like an old man! Besides...me and Cloud? We’re just childhood friends!”

She bit her lip, fixing her hair again. “That’s all.”

Zack shrugged, about to offer the brawler some encouragement, when heavy footsteps above caused whatever words to die on his lips.

At the sound of a door opening and those familiar heavy footsteps above, Tifa’s eyes widened with realization: “Oh, _ shit_! Excuse me, Zack!”

Zack looked as if he held back more laughter at Tifa’s sudden casual swearing. He certainly hadn’t heard such language from the woman before, even when she was a teenager. Tifa was immediately a familiar sight in Midgar, but he never would’ve thought of her as that girl from Nibelheim.

Hm. Just how much time _ had _passed? The question was, quite honestly, nagging him.

Turning to his side, facing the wall as Tifa quietly shut the door behind him, Zack let out a breath.

How long _ had _it been? Tifa was running a bar in the slums...She seemed to be an adult now, not just a teenager; looking like she had gained a good ten to fifteen pounds of muscle weight. Not an easy task over just a year, especially if someone had to recover from a grievous wound. No, it had been longer than just a year.

Perhaps it had been two years? Two years of their lives, taken from them on the whim of a madman...On the whims of a company he had worked for loyally and without much questioning. His loyalty and capabilities clearly meant nothing to them. He had just been an obedient pawn to be discarded once no longer needed.

Zack continued to stare at the wall, finding a hairline crack particularly interesting. A harsh huff passed his lips. He wouldn’t be anyone’s pawn anymore.

* * *

“Yo, Tifa!” Barret looked about the empty bar while he turned off the stove. The stew was about boiling over, leaving thick, brown broth to ooze over the clean, if well used, appliance. There was a tinge of worry gnawing at him; Tifa would _ never _leave something to cook and then just disappear. “Tifa?”

“Papa, there’s red stuff on the floor!” Marlene was looking down and pointing at some red blotches on the otherwise clean floorboards.

He came over to investigate, finding coagulating blood. Barret gently moved his little girl away from the trail, which pooled right behind where the door would open and smeared itself on a barstool. “You don’t need to be touchin’ none of that!”

Before he could do more, the pinball machine went downwards, then quickly after returned with a pale-faced Tifa, who was looking between them, the stove and the blood, all the while rubbing her arm anxiously. “Uh...I-sorry for the mess! I-I dropped some paint, sweetie.”

“Oh.” Marlene eyed the blood, as if she weren’t completely sold on the idea.

“Marlene, I need to talk to Papa about something important. Can you be a big girl and go play in your room for a bit?”

The little girl nodded firmly at the request, then quickly made her way upstairs to Barret’s room.

Tifa let out a long breath and rubbed her forehead. She looked exhausted. Barret motioned towards the mess. “The hell is goin’ on?”

She was quiet, thinking over what to say and how to say it. “We had some visitors.”

“What d’you mean, visitors?!” His voice was rising.

Tifa hushed him, then looked around the empty bar, as if some spy was waiting for her to share a secret. Looking him in the eye, she confessed what had happened on short notice. “Two people I knew from my hometown.”

“You said Shinra destroyed it.”

She nodded slowly. “Well, these two were there when it happened. Actually, one was...my childhood friend.” She swallowed heavily. “At the time, they worked for Shinra—”

“You brought Shinra dogs in here?!” Barret cried out, literally up in arms while raising them angrily.

“Will you be _ quiet_, Barret?!” Tifa began rubbing her face in exasperation.

“They don’t work for them anymore. I’d even say that they’re _ against _ Shinra now.” She looked back up at him, his frown stony and judging.

“Barret, there’s just a lot that we have to catch up on right now. They were injured, and tomorrow we can get the story from them.”

Before the burly man could protest, she interrupted. “We’ll talk to them together, tomorrow. Just _ please _ let them rest for now.”

“If they look at Marlene the wrong way, they’re gonna be paintin’ the walls,” he warned.

“Okay, fine.” Tifa sighed. There wasn’t much else she could do to reason with him.

Avalanche's leader took in several deep breaths, then pointed at his dear friend. “You better make sure they good and ready to talk, soon. Tomorrow ain’t good enough for me. If they’re against Shinra, cool, but if they’re rats then I wanna know, pronto!”

“Fine, fine...Just give them a little more time to rest, okay?” Barret hesitantly nodded and Tifa rubbed her face once more, before locking eyes with a confused redhead entering the bar, Wedge and Biggs behind her.

Talk with Jessie first, let Zack have maybe...an hour, no, _ two hours’ _ more rest, and then perhaps a hopefully _ calm _discussion between Zack and Barret could happen. Certainly Barret wouldn’t be callous towards a sick guy like Cloud? Certainly he at least could rest for a bit longer?

Jessie, Biggs and Wedge, having just entered the bar together, could only exchange nervous glances between each other. This strange tension in the air certainly felt bizarre.

Clearing her throat, Tifa’s hand fell onto Jessie’s shoulder, offering a weak smile. “Can we talk in our room? It’s important.” Marlene, still happily playing with her dolls, wouldn’t be able to hear them from next door if the women kept their voices down.

“Sure thing.” Despite Jessie’s words, the quizzical look on her face didn’t dissipate. “Guys, you help Barret with dinner, okay?”

“Jeez, Tif, you sure made a mess tonight! What’s gotten you so distracted? Guy trouble?” Biggs couldn't help his snickering. Wedge was a bit more sympathetic to whatever was on Tifa’s mind, taking it upon himself to quietly dry off the still warm stove. Barret, begrudgingly, began preparing the bowls and spoons they needed. He’d let Marlene play for ten more minutes, then after dinner and washing up, it was straight to bed for her. He’d need time afterwards to mentally prepare for a nice chat with Tifa’s old buddies.

“Your ‘friends’ joining us?”, he huffed.

Tifa laughed nervously, shaking her head. “T-they don’t seem very hungry.”

“What friends?” Jessie raised an eyebrow. Maybe Barret was irritated tonight because they had a late return home, and he desperately needed some food in his system? It was already well past Marlene’s bed time, after 8 PM. Marlene in tow tonight meant there wasn’t much to be done on the side of reconnaissance—although it certainly made passing off as family on an evening stroll _ much _ easier.

* * *

Jessie took a cautious seat on their worn mattress—sadly all they could afford—while Tifa all but paced back and forth with anxious eyes.

“Hey, so, uhh...look. Could you explain to Wedge and Biggs that they have to bunk in that spare room below? Just for tonight, I think.”

“Um, sure? You already know that’s not a problem, but why?”

Tifa ran a shaky hand through her hair. Maybe her white lie was obvious, but what did it matter, when certainly Barret would loudly bitch about the ordeal during supper, before Marlene joined them?

“Some old friends stopped by. It’s not that I mind, but it was kind of...without warning? Barret’s worried enough about the situation that he demands we chat with them tonight. I just...” She groaned, loudly, face in her hands, back against the wall. “I just don’t know what to do!”

“Oh, is that all?” The redhead cocked her head to the side, utterly confused. “Look, I could tell Barret was chewing you out with those threats of his, but I think it’ll be fine. He’s not the type to act without thinking _ despite _how hot-headed he’s feeling in the moment, right? Otherwise, what kind of a leader would he be to our group?”

More than thankful that her dear friend was more than amiable about the situation, it was honestly _refreshing_ that Tifa had somebody around to let her guard down.

“I’ll go fetch Marlene so we can have dinner together. You just take a moment to relax, okay?”

Tifa felt all the tension escape her system, laying backwards atop their mattress. The comforter needed replacing sometime soon. Considering tonight’s crazy turn of events, reassurances were _ especially _needed.

“Thanks, Jess.”

“And Tifa?” Avalanche’s bomb expert stood by the door, a gloved hand on the handle.

“Huh?”

Jessie winked. “I’ll convince Barret to wait until tomorrow to chat with your friends. Sleeping beauties need their rest, right?”

Despite the stress, Tifa couldn’t help herself but laugh.

* * *

Blinking, his vision was greeted to an alabaster ceiling. He’d ever so slowly work himself to cautiously sit upright, that definitive_ it’s morning _ sensation tingling through surprisingly soothed muscles. His mind felt a little like taffy, and at first he wasn’t quite sure where he was.

An unfamiliar bedroom with an uncomfortable stiff-as-a-board mattress that sunk down in the middle slightly, seemingly some kind of basement. Yet Cloud’s sleep had been strangely restful. Had he been _ that _ tired?

Immediately, his heightened Soldier senses fell to the open door, eyes locking with _ her_—wide-eyed and holding some kind of bowl. Warmed oatmeal, maybe? Those shaky hands nearly dropped the item in surprise, before setting it atop a well faded dresser.

Nervously licking her lips and cautiously pushing back a strand of hair away, her dangling teardrop ear visible, the young woman offered, “...Cloud?”

He blinked, twice, immediate recognition in his light-blue eyes, any Mako now mere traces. At least, for the moment.

“Tifa.”

And immediately, warmth enveloped Cloud, her arms tightly wrapping around his back. She silently, briefly, shuddered into his arms before straightening, cherry cola eyes shimmering from wetness. Held back tears? Cloud didn't understand, but it stirred something inside him.

“Good morning, Cloud.” She fought the blush against her pink-tinged cheeks while he slowly hugged her in reply, his hands respectfully against the small of her back. She smelled faintly of shampoo and whatever she had been cooking. It was nice.

“Yeah. Mornin’...I think.” A loud yawn escaped his lips, morning cobwebs fuzzily clogging his brain, processing his old friend before him. Wasn't her dark skirt _ too _ short? Those suspenders were a cute touch...as for the rest of her body, well, she always looked _ good _ no matter what she wore.

Still groggy, Cloud opened his mouth to mutter, seemingly unaware that he’d begun playing with the softness of Tifa’s long chocolate hair, “Chocobo and dumplings, it was my comfort food, back home.” Answering her question from last night's bath, he quietly continued, “Mom...she’d always cook it for me, whenever I’d get sick.”

“I remember. She’d offer me and Dad extra bowls.” Tifa cocked her head to the side, gently smiling, “but why cannibalism?” For good measure, a shaky finger poked the tallest end of his spiky hair. She was holding back laughter.

Cloud blinked again, needing a full minute to grasp her joke, his lips soon curving upwards into a genuine smile. He made no effort to politely push her away during their friendly, comforting hug.

Something about that realization especially warmed Tifa's heart.

“Last night...”

“H-huh?” Tifa still couldn’t believe it. This was real. He was _ here _. But whether or not Cloud would relapse...No. She’d refuse to think about it.

“Why’d you think Zack and I were a couple...?” Confusion in his slurring words, moreso than mortification. Maybe Cloud, too, had no qualms with the idea on a basic level?

“We-well...He really has your back, you know?” Tifa’s cheeks reddened, holding an index finger up as if describing a key point in a business meeting.

“...Yeah.” Was that relief, or disappointment in Cloud’s increasingly tired eyes, while his body grew slightly pale?

Tifa was uncertain about his facial expression, moreso concerned that her old friend naturally wasn’t out of the woods just yet. Biting her lip, she reluctantly broke away from their warm embrace, helping Cloud shift about into bed, again. Zack took the news about 5 years passing, over breakfast she’d graciously provided them...Well, Tifa frankly didn’t _ know _how well Zack had taken it, reacting wide-eyed but otherwise tight-lipped about his feelings.

“Get some rest.” Her voice was gentle, kind.

“Mmh...okay. But, Tifa, where...?” He yawned, momentarily eyeing the steaming bowl of food before his fatigued eyelids heavily shut. His stomach hadn’t growled _ yet_, so it was a sign he wasn’t hungry. Vaguely recalling Tifa’s overprotective, motherly, nature from their childhood, she would’ve killed him over such a line of thought, angrily forcing him to eat _ something_.

“We're at my place, in Midgar.” She nodded in confirmation, pausing. “I promise I'll explain everything later.”

_ Midgar…? Why here? _Cloud’s confused, fragmented, thoughts gave way to comforting sleep which all too eagerly claimed that young man.

Soon, he could feel himself drifting off, dimly aware of a weight atop the side of his bed, a warm hand stroking blond locks out of his face, and a familiar song hummed on her lips. One of the standards he overheard in his room, if he luckily left his windows open during Tifa's piano practice. As if Cloud had been her private audience, back then. Did she know he'd been listening to her play, every day 3 PM sharp, during her daily practice?

Before his last traces of consciousness temporarily faded, the blond began humming along, based off pure, albeit exhausted, memory recall. Unaware of Tifa's warm smile, brimming from silent happiness that he remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what did you think? Will Barret be reasonable during their talk? Will Cloud be stable enough to add anything to the story? Tifa's a champ, isn't she? Silence is, of course, taken as a lack of interest! ^^


	4. Joyful Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We’re incredibly sorry for the wait! The holidays plus computer troubles (always fun) interfered. As an apology, please enjoy a longer than usual chapter!

It was around noon and Marlene was playing dolls upstairs in Barret’s room, safe and sound as Tifa and Barret intended. With her belly full, she had been given enough cooled off tea for her small tea party.

Meanwhile, there was serious discussion to be had between the adults. After the large group (rather noisily) ate lunch together with Marlene, nobody exchanged much in the way of words except for praise of Tifa’s cooking, Barret—maybe _ somewhat _gruffly—suggested the grown ups talk down below in Avalanche’s hideout. 

“Hey, lemme get seconds, first!”, Cloud snapped with a glare, looking up from his bowl of rice. Barret would’ve quipped that the blond seemed like a man starving, until he recalled the bare minimum of how Tifa, that morning, had described Cloud’s sickly appearance.

“Hmph. _ Fine_.” The leader of Avalanche drummed his fingers against the table.

The bar was quiet but for the whistle of a teapot, despite six people sitting in attendance at one of the larger tables. Tifa glanced towards them before fussing with seven mugs. Barret gave Zack a death glare, Zack merely picked at the skin of his arm and looking towards Cloud. Cloud, fortunately, seemed much more lucid...and, happily, stable. That minor attitude problem was a surprise to Zack, but maybe Cloud was just emotionally drained, considering recent experiences.

“Let’s take these downstairs?”, Tifa suggested, beginning to pass around everyone’s drink of choice.

Biggs, Wedge and Jessie seemed more curious than anything, the first of the large group to descend into the living room area of the hideout below.

“So, what do you think?”, Wedge asked, balancing his tea, too hot to sip from just yet. Although he wouldn’t admit it—maybe Tifa caught his fear—those two pairs of glowing eyes _ were _pretty intimidating.

“I dunno.” Biggs made a face, staring into the steam of his coffee, steadying the pinball machine elevator for a smooth ride, letting Jessie and Wedge off first. “If the boss is fine with ‘em, then they’re fine by me, but…I say we give ‘em a chance.” 

“They’re both cute.” Jessie held back a smirk, making herself comfortable on a beanbag chair near the table. She forgoed any drink, otherwise she’d be up all night later on in her already caffeinated state. There was a lot of programming to be done later.

The peace, as the trio feared, was certainly short lived.

“You alright?” Cloud asked of Barret, once the group were properly situated downstairs.

Barret’s eyes snapped towards him, jaw tense and fist squeezed tight. “The hell you askin’ that for?”  
  
The blond shrugged, a disdainful and faint smirk tugging at his lips. “You look like you’re about to have a stroke, that’s all.”

The leader of Avalanche slapped his good hand against the wood of the table as Jessie suppressed a giggle, then he pointed a finger threateningly at the former grunt. “And you look like you’re about to have a hot air release hole in your spiky head!”

“Spike,” Zack whispered to his friend, “I think you should leave the diplomacy to me.”

Cloud scoffed softly, then looked up as Tifa placed a hot mug of tea in front of him. She’d carried his drink down the lift for him. “Thanks, Tifa.”

She smiled warmly, happy to see him feeling better already. Everyone patiently waited for Zack to divulge into his story. He eyed the murky depths that smelled of verbena and honey, then looked at everyone with a curious glance. “So...where should I begin?”

“Hm...” Tifa’s fingers tapped against the table, sitting right next to Cloud. “You could go over what happened.”

“Yeah, why’d you quit Shinra?” Barret demanded.

“Oh. Well...” Zack took a sip, soothing his nerves. He needed to tell them, despite not _ wanting _to remember. “We were both injured. It was bad. There was blood everywhere from the fight.”

“I thought you were a goner,” Cloud murmured to Tifa, his eyes slowly reaching hers in a sideways glance.

Zack gave a nod. “It’s a good thing Zangan got you outta there. I guess he thought that Shinra would help us, since we worked for them and all. Well, _ I _thought that too.”

He sighed through his nose, eyes gazing at a hairline crack in the ceramic of his mug. “Shinra was there pretty fast. The thing was, they weren’t there to rescue anyone. When I came to, we were in the mansion basement.”  
  
“Mansion?” Barret tilted his head forward and raised a brow. “What’s a mansion gotta do with any of this?”

“Isn’t that where Sephiroth hid for a week?” Tifa asked gently.

“Yeah,” the ex-Soldier replied with a nod. “The basement has a lab in it. They took us and, well...I’m not really sure what Hojo wanted.” Zack scratched the back of his head. “To be honest, it was almost exactly like the Soldier creation process. Cloud didn’t take the Mako shower very well.”

“Mako!” Tifa studied the bright blue eyes that were looking her way again. What did Hojo do to him?!

“...After that, he stuffed us in tanks. I don’t know how long we were down there, but one day, during feeding time, I broke out. Then I got Cloud out, and we booked it outta there.”

Barret grumbled a little, still studying the two for the faintest trick or lie. “So you bee-lined for here.”

Zack shrugged noncommittally. “I _ might _know someone who lives in the Slums.”

“Then why’d you come here, and not to them?”

“I didn’t know Tifa was _ alive _, let alone living in the Slums, man!” Zack turned to look at her, then faced Barret again. “I was just looking for a safe place to rest and drink a Potion or two.”

“Hmm.” Barret’s critical eye was on the two former Shinra employees. “I dunno if I believe a damn thing you’re sayin’. Why stuff ya in tanks when they coulda just got rid of ya?”

Cloud began rubbing his forehead, elbow on the table as he leaned his head into his fingers. “Would love to know ourselves.” He inhaled deeply, then let out a noisy sigh. “Hojo...he’s insane. He was always insane...”

“Dude did things…” Zack muttered, nodding in agreement, suddenly more uncomfortable than he had been moments ago. A faraway look crossed his face. “The things he did to those Mako condensers…”

“Mako condensers?” Tifa asked. “They had _ those _under the mansion?”

He shook his head. “No. They were inside the Reactor. Those were what made Sephiroth go bonkers in the first place.”

“Yeah, they stuffed people in there,” Cloud continued.

Zack did a double take at his friend. “H-hey...you weren’t in there. How’d you know?”

Cloud furrowed his brow. “Of course I was! I went in with Sephiroth...” He lowered his head and stared at the table in concentration. “...Or was I outside...?”

“You don’t know?” Barret narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

“I...I was in Soldier. I made it in...” Cloud winced a little bit as pain went through his brain. “Didn’t I?”  
  
“Cloud, I think you _ deserved _to be in Soldier, especially after what you did to Sephiroth,” Zack answered sympathetically. “But you were the MP stationed outside the reactor that day.”

Tifa tilted her head towards the blond, whose face was growing despondent and shameful. “You were one of those MPs...?”

“...I...”

She gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Oh, Cloud. Were you...hiding?”

Zack was about to say something, but Cloud stomped on his foot, warning him not to. “_ Ow _! Eh, I guess the Mako poisoning did a number on you, man.”

The blond shook his head before resting it in his hands, his fingers rubbing his scalp as he did so. “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know.” Barret looked like he was about to suffer a headache as well. His eyes went from the two former Shinra employees to the red eyed barmaid, snorting. “And you trust these two.”

Her eyes immediately hardened as they met his. “I do. Why else would they be here?”  
  
“She’s right,” Jessie finally said. “To Shinra, we’re nobodies. They have no idea what we’re up to.”

“Uh, we just _ kinda _wanted to start our lives over again...Wait, up to what?” Zack cocked his head to the side like a puppy. 

“Damn it,” Barret muttered with tense, short words. “It ain’t your business!”

Biggs leaned into the table. “Hey now, not so fast.” He looked at Zack and tilted his chin up before addressing the ex-Soldier. “How do you feel about Shinra, though?”

Zack stared at him and blinked once, a strangely long pause as his mouth formed a thin line. “I...had a lot going for me, I admit.” Without his gaze leaving the other man, he very slowly shook his head. “But what they did to us isn’t something I can forgive.”

There was a nod of approval, then Biggs took Cloud into his sights. “And you?”

Cloud swallowed, a quiet anger and sorrow simmering in his blue eyes. “Shinra, and Sephiroth, took everything from me. I’ll never forgive them for that.”

Biggs lifted his arms up and leaned back in his chair as his hands cradled his head. He gave Barret a smug look. “Sound pretty bitter to me!”

Barret let out a grunt, not particularly approving nor completely distrusting. “We’ll talk more later. Until then, there’s some ground rules if you’re stayin’ with us!”

His good hand came up, along with a finger for each rule. “First, your asses are stayin’ down here while the bar is open, and you’re stayin’ here ‘til the Shinra is done lookin’ for ya! Second, everyone pulls their weight here! Now you two ain’t lookin’ so hot, I’ll give ya that, so we won’t put your asses on chores just yet.”  
  
Zack gave an appreciative nod. “We’ll do our best to repay everyone! Right, Spike?” He was given a nod by the blond.

“Alright. Lastly, and most importantly: if I catch either of you lookin’ at Marlene funny, I’m blowin’ your goddamn head off! Clear?”

“Crystal,” Cloud replied dryly.

Sudden footsteps above, several loud knocks in succession, alerted everyone’s presence to a potential customer. Barret narrowed his eyes. 

Everybody tensed.

Sighing, Tifa squeezed Cloud’s shoulder once more before approaching the pinball machine elevator. 

“Be right back.”; she calmly offered. 

* * *

Outside the entrance to the bar stood an impatient-looking, ponytailed redhead in a business suit. His frantic knocking continued. “Yo, you open?! Got a customer waitin’ out here!”

_Shinra’s still sweeping the area. But, _now_,_ _in broad daylight?_ Swallowing her fears and calming her rapid heart, Tifa opened the double doors by a fraction, cherry-cola eyes meeting the allegedly drunk man. His business suit was wrinkled and his crimson hair messy. She frowned at him; doubting someone like him was any part of the sweep. “Sorry, we’re closed for today.”

“C’mon, lady!” He slurred, “Don’t be like that. Start up a tab for me! Gimme a drink, yeah?”

Her fist clenched at her side. Was she going to have to get into it with this guy? “I said, we’re closed! Today’s reserved for restocking.”

“Closed?! You ain’t closed, yo! I saw a group a people come in!” the drunkard pressed.

Tifa rolled her eyes. “This is the Slums, if you don’t remember. Sometimes, people live together.”

“Tch.”

Mock-irritation crossed the man’s features as he whirled back around. 

“Fine. But ya better be open tomorrow night!”; he spat, wobbly in his movements and into the narrow streets of Sector 7. She watched as his silhouette disappeared, then looked about for any curious troopers. Tifa, heart resuming its thudding in her chest, locked the front door once the redhead was nothing but a blur in the distant crowd. 

* * *

Aerith watered a patch of particularly dry soil. Always that patch, and she never knew why, but she supposed that the Planet had secrets it would keep from her. No matter; her watering can would fix it. She wished the rusty tin container could fix more than dusty dirt, especially as of late. She wondered if the recently departed Rude enjoyed the flower crown she made him? Today, Reno and Tseng both seemed caught up in their work.

A glance at her leather-faded wristwatch. Shortly after 3:00 PM. No matter, she could easily accompany herself home. Fugitives didn’t scare her. Certainly Tseng already understood that.

Aerith’s fingers played with the pearl-colored Materia hidden in her hair ribbon. It wasn’t that she felt afraid.

It was more so...that feeling, in the back of her mind, never ceased making her feel something strange and familiar in her chest. She hoped it would come to fruition soon, or leave her be.

The sound of the church door creaking open made Aerith twirl towards it. Her brow lowered in curiosity when instead of a Turk, there was a young woman. She was built powerfully despite the lithe figure, and her chest was...well, she wished she boasted something like that. Maybe Zack would have stayed, then. The stranger had long, dark brown hair, and as she came into the light, Aerith noticed she had sparkling cherry cola eyes.

The woman’s pink lips turned up in a smile, cheeks belying her bashfulness. “Hi there! My name’s Tifa. Umm...I heard you sell flowers, and I wanted to buy some to brighten my business up.” She barely tilted her head to the side. 

Aerith’s eyes lit up at the offer. A business wanted _ her _flowers? 

“Flowers? For a business? Wow, I’ve never had a customer interested in interior decorating before…”

Tifa giggled a little. “I figured my customers would like a little something that reminded them there’s a world beyond Midgar,” she explained, motioning a hand towards the church door. “Would you be able to help me make a choice at my bar?”  
  
“Hmm,” Aerith held one elbow in her hand while a finger tapped her cheek teasingly. “You’ll have to pay a consultation fee.”

“Oh, a fee? Well, how about a cocktail, on the house?”; Tifa joked back.

The half Cetra laughed, then followed the bartender out of the church. “Deal.”

Leaving the church, Tifa motioned towards a motorbike at the base of the steeple. “I live in Sector Seven. I hope this is alright?”

The flower seller was a little hesitant, if she was being completely honest with herself. Something felt off, but for one reason or another, she didn’t think it was because of this sweet bartender with gentle eyes. She seemed genuine. With a nod, Aerith sat behind the brunette, then held onto her shoulders before they took off. 

“My bar’s called Seventh Heaven,” Tifa almost shouted as the bike’s monotonous drone continued. “It might be heaven with the scent of some real flowers!”

Aerith laughed a little. “They sure do brighten a place up, too!”

“Great! I miss real flowers.”

The ride to Tifa’s bar wasn’t very long, and she soon found herself inside once the brunette invited her in. She gave it a quick glance, then turned to Tifa.

“Well, it’s a nice establishment. But I can see what you mean about brightening it up. Hm…” It was when she heard the click of the lock behind her that she felt her worries might have been justified. “Um...no need to lock us in...”

Tifa turned to her, all smiles. “I was told you usually have Turks following you, so, I’d rather not have them barge in on us.”

Aerith’s eyes widened; how did she know? She looked around to see a tall figure quickly make its way to her from behind. She gasped, then threw her best punch at her would be attacker, causing him to let out an amused grunt as he picked her up. Aerith struggled, but his hands were strong and firm.

Immediately she was twirled about, embraced by… “Zack?!”

“Aerith!” He was smiling at her, his indigo eyes glistening from unshed tears. “Gods, I missed you so much.”

Her lips felt a familiar softness mixed with the barest hint of stubble from his skin, and she couldn’t protest. After nearly five years he was here, holding her in his arms, her emotions wildly flaring...

“Where _ were _you all these years...?!”

Zack kissed her again, his hands cradling her to his chest. It was where she’d wanted to be for almost half a decade of loneliness, of waiting to hear back from him. Did they mean nothing to one another, after all? Had she been played for a fool, like those old stories of military men travelling from port to port, a girl in each town? Such a long wait, and it was like a floodgate opened in her chest. She wanted to angrily slap Zack out of confusion and deep hurt, but all she could do was to begin brokenly crying in his arms.

“Let’s just say I don’t work for Shinra anymore,” he said. “They kept me from you for too long.”

“Oh, Zack...I heard you moved to Junon, and...” She continued crying, noticing through watery eyes that he also silently began, foreheads pressing against each other.

He shook his head, then kissed her again. “No. I was halfway across the world. But I found you!”

Tifa hummed softly at that, then approached the couple. “So...how about that consultation?”

Aerith sniffled, being set down by Zack. As she rubbed a wet eye, she asked with a slight laugh; “Wait. You were serious?!”

The younger woman laughed a little, then beckoned them to the bar. “Mhm. Zack sold me on the idea, even if it was to get you here. He kept telling me how nice your flowers are.”

“So, what’ll it be?” Tifa smiled warmly, her arms relaxed against the countertop as she patiently waited for their on the house order.

“Hm.” A drink sounded wonderful, right about now. Aerith tilted her head, examining the bottles behind the bar. “Something sweet?”

“Gimme somethin’ hard!”; Zack exclaimed with a grin.

Tifa laughed, complying with the orders. 

Aerith, wiping away wet eyes, took a seat at the barstool, shoulder brushing with Zack who sat next to her. 

“I’m _ so _ sorry.”; he muttered, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend’s waist while Tifa, her back turned, busily prepared their drinks. Ice cubes clattering and the _ ting _of shaken bottles filled the otherwise hushed bar.

“It’s alright, now.” Her weak yet sincere smile was what her heart felt: ready to shatter into a million pieces with the lack of hearing from him for five long years. “But...where have you been, if not Junon? Why didn’t you contact me?”

“It’s a long story, but I’ll explain soon.” His hand squeezed Aerith’s; smile never fading. 

“Promise.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”, she chuckled.

* * *

“Mh...?”

Aerith gave a mild start. Something had unsettled her from the peaceful discussion between herself, Zack, and Tifa. They spoke and laughed of light topics, Tifa mentioning her origins from a quiet mountain town on the other continent, how she moved to Midgar five years ago. Aerith found it amusing how neither women had ran into each other in the Slums, although perhaps that wasn’t so surprising, considering the mass of the impoverished lower city.

The quiet sadness to Tifa’s eyes, Aerith would politely ignore for now. Simply wasn’t her place to question.

“Something wrong?”, Tifa looked up from her simple mug of beer towards Aerith’s perplexed, inquisitive, expression.

Her simple bar snack of french fries and ‘special’ iced tea were forgotten. The flower girl muttered something Tifa didn’t quite catch, approaching the pinball machine. It was making a strange noise.

“...Aerith?”

“I think something is wrong with your pinball machine?” With emerald eyes closed, she gently shook her head, bangs swaying. “There’s more to this place than meets the eye, I think.”

Her two friends, still seated by the bar counter, exchanged quizzical looks. How would she know?

The braided brunette took a cautious step back, startling for the second time when the pinball machine suddenly moved from its place. It remerged, only a moment later, carrying a blond with piercing blue eyes. He was dressed in a black sleeveless shirt and dark pants. “Hey, Tifa? Do you have anymore medic—”

In any other situation, Aerith would’ve immediately regarded this young man as incredibly cute. But as things currently stood, she couldn’t help fight against a queasy sensation in her belly, taking two steps towards the man with an intense look across her features. The faint scent of Mako, stronger than Zack’s, clung to him. “Hm...”

And immediately, Cloud scratched the back of his head while backing away slightly. 

“Umm...hi?” His Mako tinted eyes went to Zack. “This a friend of yours, man?”

In complete confusion, he glanced towards the puppy-like boy who held back laughter. 

“Yep! That’s my girl, Aerith!”

“...Oh.” Frowning, Cloud returned to staring at the girl who didn’t lighten up with that stern gaze of hers. Certainly, she was pretty with her braided hair and flowy pink dress—it looked like she was holding back a smile—but there was something about her that felt a little...unnerving.

After what seemed like an eternity but only a minute at most had passed, Aerith straightened. That smile she was holding back bloomed in full, absolutely radiant. “Sorry about that!”; she chuckled with no other explanation, holding out a hand. 

“Like Zack mentioned, my name’s Aerith. It’s nice to finally meet you, Cloud. Those two wouldn’t stop talking about you.”

Cloud shook his head firmly, still confused but offering a friendly smile, nevertheless. “Nice to meet you, too.”


End file.
